


Love Not Lost

by Tarvok



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Spock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarvok/pseuds/Tarvok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His Captain is dying. Spock must not let him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Love Not Lost

By Tarvok

Rated M. M/M. Star Trek TOS.

 

 

“Jim? Jim!?” I quickly rush to the side of my Captain. There is phaser-fire behind me, and I feel a blast zip past my left ear. I duck down and take him into my arms. I can see that ahead of us are Dr. McCoy and a group of security officers firing back at our pursuers. I do not see an opening, but I do see a more strategic place to hide. I wait for a moment and dive toward the rubbish container, carefully holding Jim's head still against my chest. He groans in pain and his left hand comes up to grasp at my uniform.

“Forgive me, Captain. We will hopefully be out of this soon, and then you shall rest.”

“Sp-ock?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

“I am here, Jim.” I attempt to stop the blood that is flowing freely from his left side.

“Wha- hap...?”

“You were ambushed by a rogue faction on your way to the Dignitaries' Ball. I received an emergency comm from you approximately one half hour ago, and attempted to ascertain your position. Once your signal was lost, I contacted Dr. McCoy and a team of security officers to accompany me as I began the search.”

“How-?” Jim's grip lessens as he begins to lose consciousness. I am alarmed; his heart rate is suddenly dropping. There is too much of his precious red blood flowing over my fingers. I increase the pressure of my hands, but I know I cannot afford to break his ribs.

“Captain? Jim?” My words escape my throat in a harsh whisper. I look around. Dr. McCoy is too far away; not even with his own desperate expression can he help me.

There is not enough time. I begin to panic. A phaser blast hits the other side of the container we are hiding behind, leaving a melted hole toward my right hip. I move to the left more, illogically appreciative that Jim was safely ensconced to my left side.

“Jim, stay with me, please. You must not lose consciousness.” I plead, but he cannot hear me. His breathing is shallow. I have no time. His lips are beginning to turn blue. I remove my right hand from his wound and place my fingers on his meld-points. I must be quick. I close my eyes and dive deep.

~~~

I open my eyes in an unfamiliar landscape of what appears to be a field of some kind of Terran crop. I do not see Jim. 

“ _Captain? Jim! Where are you, Jim?”_

There is movement off to my left, and I see him. He is wearing nothing but sweatpants and a tight-fitting sleeveless shirt, all in gray.

“ _Spock? What's going on?What is this place?”_

“ _It is your mind, Jim. We are in your mind. We must not dally. There is not much time.”_

“ _'Not much time'?”_

“ _You are dying, Jim, and I cannot save you.”_ I look down at my hands in shame. _“I have tried all that I know to try. Dr. McCoy is too far away and we are under attack.”_

Jim is smiling at me. _“I know, Spock. You always do your best. You are the best First Officer and friend anyone can have.”_

“ _But, Jim-”_

“ _No. It's true. None of us suspected an attack. It was entirely unexpected. The Kulons will undoubtedly use this to their advantage in the peace talks. Might even use it to stop them. You can't let that happen, Spock.”_

“ _Jim-”_

“ _I'll be okay, Spock. Look after yourself.”_ His image is fading. 

I cannot let this happen. I rush forward illogically and grab ahold of his biceps.

“ _Jim, you mustn't. You cannot go now. It is not time for you to go.”_

“ _Just let me go, Spock. It'll be okay. You're strong. You'll be okay.”_ His smile is sad, but his image before me is once more solid.

“ _No, Jim. I will not be 'okay.' I am not 'strong.' I have not been 'okay' or 'strong' since I received your distress beacon.”_

“ _Why, Spock. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was a love confession.”_ My Captain and friend is now laughing, but without mirth.

“ _What if it is?”_ I speak quickly. _“Will it cause you to will yourself to live?”_ I shake him.

His expression hardens and he backs away from my hold, and from me. _“Is it, Spock?”_

I do not hesitate. I can sense movement around us. He is being pulled from me by gentle, but harried, hands.

“ _It is, Jim. It is.”_

I feel a sharp pain in my head and then all is black.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

When I wake, I hear the familiar sounds of a Starfleet medical facility. It takes me some time before I am able to fully leave my healing trance.

I take in my surroundings. It is the standard, sterile affair, with one exception; there is a single vase to my left with a bouquet of a deep purple flower of some kind in it. I do not find the scent unpleasant; however, it is slightly overpowering, even for my sense of smell. The window set in the far wall is slightly open, allowing a warm breeze to filter throughout the room, and sunshine to cascade across the floor. Knowing Dr. McCoy's distaste for strong smells, I imagine it is also to filter out the odour of the flower.

“Ah, I see you're finally awake.”

I turn and Dr. McCoy is standing at the foot of my bed. He must have entered the room while I was making my observations.

“What are they?” I indicate the vase. He walks to the table and looks at the small tag attached to it.

“Well, it says here that these are Ambrosia. Doesn't say who they're from.. You didn't appear allergic to them, so I let them stay. Now, let me see if everything is back in working order.”

I am being scanned for lasting injury. “What happened? Where is Jim?”

“Oh Jim's fine. We sewed him up, gave him a transfusion, and after a couple weeks of listening to him complain about the bedrest in the hospital, he's up and about. You, on the other hand, have been in a healing trance for all of those two weeks and then some. I'm thinking you took on some of his injury, but I don't have any clue how. I'm a doctor, not a Vulcan.”

“He is well?”

“It's nothing special, Spock. Just the same game you two play. He's _always_ fine.” Dr. McCoy makes a few notations on his PADD, and walks toward the door. “Take some time off, Spock. I'll let Jim know you're awake, but you're not to be on duty for a while.” As he walks out, I can barely hear him, but I assume he is “grumbling” as he often does.

I lay back and close my eyes, wondering on the significance of the flower, and who would give me any.

~~~

I must have fallen asleep for a time, as when I next open my eyes, the sunlight that was streaming through the far window when I awoke has been replaced by pale moonlight. I am startled suddenly by the soft sound of a throat being cleared to my right.

“Hey, Spock.” It's Jim. He looks much better than when I last saw him. “How are you feeling?”

I swallow. “I seem to require further rest, Captain.”

“I oughta leave you to it, but... I've had about two weeks of thinking about this. I'm not waiting another day.” Jim rises from the chair and paces the room, passing by the foot of my bed and beyond to the window, then back again several times, his hands roaming through his hair occasionally. He eventually settles back in his chair, and leans forward.

“Was it- Is it _true_ , Spock?” His voice is quiet.

“Is what 'true,' Captain?” He blanches as I say “Captain,” and I realise that my tone must have been... off somehow to ears.

“I- I know I was a dead man, Spock. Just as sure as I know I'm sitting here right now, and that I had pancakes for breakfast, I know I was _dead_. It helps that Bones said as much.” Jim laughs without humour. “By the time they got to us, I was dead for over a minute. That's- that's why you've been in a trance all this time. I talked to your... Sarek, and he said it was because you'd melded with a _dead man_. You could've died, Spock. That's why I need to ask! Is it _true?_ What you said!”

The room is quiet beyond Jim's heavy breathing and the occasional _beep_ announcing to the world that I am, indeed, no longer in a healing trance. I have yet to answer him and he looks down toward his folded hands with a disappointed sigh. I made him angry with my lack of words, but I am not sorry.

“Yes.”

His head jerks up suddenly. “What?”

“I said, ' _Yes_ ,' Jim. I was speaking the truth when I agreed with your 'joke' that I was confessing my... _feelings_ for you.” My tone is hard.

He smiles at me then, and rises from the chair to stand near to me. I close my eyes as the back of his hand comes to rest on my brow. I try, and fail, to block out his feelings. “Vulcans don't lie,” he whispers.

“We do not,” and my own whisper barely makes it past my throat.

“I wouldn't joke like that, Spock. Not with you.” He needs me to know this. I do not respond. I cannot. He suddenly removes his hand and I can breath normally again. “I'll let you get your rest. I've got a meeting early in the morning and Bones didn't want me to bother you, anyway.” He turns away from me and asks, “Did you like my flowers?” He is gone before I answer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the flower:
> 
> For those in the know about the language of flowers, Ambrosia means that your love is reciprocated.


	3. Chapter 3

It is early morning. The first sun of Vulcan has yet to rise. I have a meeting to attend shortly, and I find myself nowhere near appropriate readiness to go.

It took approximately three standard days to reach Vulcan once I was informed my presence was required. My father, Sarek, requested that I attend this diplomatic meeting alongside him. I imagine there are other matters which he desires to discuss with me, as this is unusual.

Jim is on my mind, as is our last conversation. He was offered a position with the Admiralty of Starfleet, and expressed that he wished to not give up the Enterprise. He wanted me to tell him what to do. I refused. I merely told him I would approve of whatever decision he made.

“But I'm not your boss anymore, Spock,” he said to me.

I told him I would always see him as my Captain. I did not tell him that I would always approve of his choices as that is what a satisfactory mate does. We are not mates, but I desire it to be so. Thus I acted in this illogical way in the hope that he would see it as a possibility.

He saw through my attempts as he always has and just smiled at me and held my hand.

I am going to be late. This is unbecoming a Vulcan.

~~~

The meeting was uneventful. The High Council commended me on my efforts at living with Humans in such close quarters as I have. I did not tell them that I find it much easier than living with Vulcans. The realisation caught me by surprise. The look Sarek gave me made me believe he understood what I was not saying.

“Spock. I desire to speak with you. Sit.” We are in my parents' home, and he motions for me to sit across from him. I do. “You may not be aware of this; however, it is proper that I inform you.”

“Yes?” It is a new sofa on which I sit. I find myself illogically wishing for the old one with the holes hidden by the cushions.

“Your Captain Kirk contacted me not long ago.”

“Of what did you speak?”

“Vulcan bonds. He was particularly interested in my bond with Amanda and how it functioned.”

“And he just came out with this, without any lead toward it?”

“Of course. It would not have been Kirk otherwise. The entire conversation took fifteen minutes. Most of this was spent on my surprise at the impropriety and informing him of Federation Standard language texts on the subject.”

“I must apologise for his-”

“Do not bother, Spock. I was not offended, merely caught off-guard. The forwardness of Humans has always been refreshing; however, your mother lost it long ago.”

Silence falls between us, but it is not awkward. Sarek's attendant arrives and serves us tea and cakes. This one is new, perhaps eighteen in years.

“May I inquire as to what happened to your previous attendant, Father?”

“You may. He and his betrothed chose to move to another city.”

“Ah.” I sip my tea. I find it better than what his previous attendant would make.

“'Telar' is his name. He has refused his betrothal and shamed his family for an elder who recently lost his wife. Your mother suggested we hire him, as no one else will. I believe once their ceremony is completed, this illogical treatment will cease.”

“And if it does not?”

“Then I will put a formal request to the Council. I will not have a distressed household, and to put him aside is unnecessary.” Sarek motions toward the cup in my hands. “His tea is adequate, is it not?”

I nod, looking down at the cup in my lap. “It is.” It was easily the best tea I had ever had up to that point, and I make a note to ask him his 'secret,' as Jim would put it.

Silence falls between us once more. An old-fashioned Earth-style clock ticks away.

“Spock.”

I look up.

“Will you accept him, should he ask?”

“I will.”

“Good. I do not desire for you to have an unaffectionate bonding. I will inform the Council you have found another option. The business with T'Pring was shameful enough.”

“Forgive me, Father.”

He makes an unflattering sound and a motion of dismissal. “The shame is not on _you_ , Spock. T'Pring broke her vow and brought shame to herself _and_ her unborn child.”

“Unborn-”

He nods, “She was well-known for her lack of faithfulness long before the betrothal was contested. There are logical ways to go about what she wanted. She made her choice. To do it to an Ambassador's son, nonetheless...” He shakes his head and picks up his own tea. “Shameful.” He takes a long sip.

“Father?”

“Yes, Spock?”

“Will I will not bring shame to this family by choosing Jim?”

“Negative,” Sarek moves his from head side to side.

“There are many who will not see it that way. T'Pau, for instance.”

“I may have brought shame upon this family when I mated a Human. I may have brought shame upon this family when I held you after your birth in full view of outsiders... I will not make the same shameful mistake I did when I believed _you_ brought shame upon this family by joining Starfleet. Following one's dreams to their _logical_ completion is not shameful.”

“Mating my mother was not shameful.”

“So long as she was my logical choice, Spock.”

“I am uncertain of your meaning.”

“I married your mother because I _love_ her, Spock. She was never truly the _logical_ choice.” Sarek sets down his tea and folds his hands in his lap. “T'Pau will not understand; however, it is not T'Pau to whom you desire to be mated. We are finished speaking of this.”

“Yes, Father.”

 

 


End file.
